


Beneath a canopy of green

by a_sassin



Series: The Dummies guide to Family [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: ALL THE FLUFF, Baking, Cookies, Domestic Fluff, F/F, F/M, Familial Love, Family Bonding, Family Fluff, Fluff, Headcanon, Healing, Kakashi is perpetually confused, M/M, Nanami is the best, Puppies, SWEET BOYS, The Dummies guide to Family, Trauma, Uchiha Massacre, baby sasuke - Freeform, grumpy!Sasuke, honestly this is just me giving them the wholesome home they DESERVE, itachi is - and I cannot stress this enough - a precious boy, lots of cooking, naruto loves frogs okay, sasuke likes jewellery, soft! itachi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-07 04:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19201579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_sassin/pseuds/a_sassin
Summary: Itachi blinks at the woman standing beside his hospital bed.“Hello, Itachi.” Her voice is soft, relaxing. “My name’s Nanami. I’ll be taking care of you from now on.”- AU in which Shisui was the instrument of the Massacre, leaving a six year old Itachi and a five-month old Sasuke as the last Uchiha.-  A series of discombobulated chapters in the life of Itachi and Sasuke as they are raised by their aunt.





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! Thanks for popping by. 
> 
> I've had a huge break from writing (about 3 years or so) due to a severe case of writer's block. This is my first fic in forever, so please excuse me if I'm a bit rusty. 
> 
> Anyway, I'm just trying to give these lil children a warm home. I take suggestions on scenes to write, and will try to fulfil any requests sent my way. 
> 
> Enjoy, and drop a comment or a like if you enjoyed it.

Itachi is six when he returns to the compound to find blood and death and his cousin Shisui standing over his parents, katana raised. It’s not the sight of his parents that make his breath catch in his throat – no, it’s the motionless bundle at their feet.

He darts forward and snatches his little brother from his cousin’s reach before he really has time to think about it. Sasuke is alive, untouched. It’s the last semblance of relief that Itachi feels before he glances up and catches tear-filled red eyes. 

Seventy-two hours pass in a heartbeat, and it’s all he can do to hold his baby brother to his chest as he falls to his knees. 

.

Itachi blinks at the woman standing beside his hospital bed. Her voluptuous figure implies a civilian background, as well as her non-threatening chakra. She’s got light brown hair and hazel eyes, and there’s something familiar enough in the curve of her smile to make his chest ache for his mother. 

“Hello, Itachi.” Her voice is soft, relaxing. “My name’s Nanami. I’ll be taking care of you from now on.” 

He eyes her carefully. Hands without callouses, civilian clothing without clan markings. 

She smells like vanilla and honey – sweet things. She can’t be so bad, right? He decides that if Sasuke doesn’t like her, they’ll have to leave, though. 

At that moment, his little brother makes his presence known from the crib beside Itachi’s bed. Before he can move to pick him up, Nanami is there. The gentle ease with which she lifts his baby brother from his crib and settles him against her chest has him sold. 

“I brought you some sweets I prepared at home. I hope you like them!”

.

He wakes, panting, the world drowned in red. He’s shaking, shaking, blood rushing through his ears, sweat gathering at his hairline, and there’s not enough air and –

“Itachi. Breathe. Come on, now. Deep breath in through your nose, release it through your mouth.”

He’s always been good at taking orders. 

Within minutes he’s breathing steadily, head pressed between his raised knees. 

A cool hand rests on his sweaty back.

“Can I hug you, Itachi?” 

He nods jerkily. 

Slowly, gently, he feels arms around him. 

Vanilla, baby powder, floral shampoo. 

She manoeuvres him into her lap, and even though his parents told him he’s too old to be held like this, he curls into the comfort. 

“Ita-chan,” she hums softly as she strokes his hair, “do you want to talk about what scared you?”

He shakes his head rapidly against her neck. 

“Okay, darling. Come on, let’s go take a bath and get some tea into you.”

.

Itachi is bright for his age.

He sees Nanami and his mother in his mind’s eye, overlapped and intertwined. He wonders briefly if it’s his imagination – but no, their smiles, the slope of their noses, their high cheekbones. 

The next step in his realisation comes with the knowledge that he and Sasuke, as the remaining heirs to the Uchiha clan, would be placed with no one less than family. 

The last step? 

Nanami’s hair shares the curl of the boy who slayed his clan. 

.

“Nanami,” Itachi doesn’t like calling her anything but her name. He won’t go near ‘mother’, and calling her aunty just doesn’t seem right. 

“Yes, Itachi?” She sounds distracted, balancing stirring the curry on the stove and cuddling Sasuke, who’s balanced at her hip. 

“How are we related, exactly?”

She pauses for a moment, to drop a kiss to Sasuke’s head. He giggles, little fists curling in her pink apron. 

“Your mother and I are- were- half-sisters,” she turns and offers his little brother to him. Itachi eagerly takes the infant into his lap. He likes to hold him close, to smell his soft hair and play with him. 

“Our mother disgraced the family by having an affair with a non-clan affiliated shinobi. Some merchant no-name, Hamiso or whatever.”

Sasuke is gurgling cutely, holding tight to his older brother’s fingers. 

“Your grandfather was furious – they forced her to stay in the compound throughout the duration of the pregnancy, and when I was born I was sent to the orphanage.”

She looks wistful now, fiddling with the salt container. 

“Your mother found me when I was eight – she must’ve been fifteen or so – she told me about my mother and explained what the clan was like.” Here she glances at him briefly, “No offence, Ita-chan, but I was relieved that I didn’t grow up under the thumb of my grandfather.” 

He makes no comment. His grandfather had been a stern, stoic man – much like Itachi’s own father had been.

“She checked up on me constantly,” a small chuckle, “she helped me put a deposit on this apartment, actually. Your mother was a wonderful, strong woman. She raised me more than anyone else, and I’ll never be able to repay her for the life lessons she’s given me.” 

“Aren’t we your repayment?” Itachi finds himself asking before he can stop himself. 

Nanami turns off the stove before turning to kneel before him and Sasuke. 

“I won’t lie to you, Itachi.” She takes his hands in her own. “I went to the hospital that first day out of obligation to my sister. But the moment I held Sasuke in my arms, the second I laid eyes on you-”

She stops for a moment, voice breaking. Itachi watches her swallow as tears gather in the corners of her eyes. 

“From the day I met you, I knew I had no choice but to love you. I know one day, when you’re older, you might want to leave and have your own place.”

She squeezes his hands as she says this, pressing a gentle kiss to a snoozing Sasuke. 

“But I need you to know – you will always be welcome wherever I am.”

She meets his eyes, and Itachi feels his own stinging in response. 

“I will love and treasure you and your brother until the day I die, sweet boy.”

.


	2. Sleepover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School, friends, home. Itachi doesn't know how to deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> For an extra kick in the feels, pop on 'Mother's Song', 'First Echo', or 'Tender Smile' (or all three!) by Masakatsu Takagi from the 'Wolf Children' soundtrack. Better yet, watch the film if you haven't already. It's... breathtaking. One of my all time favourites. It's also a primary inspiration for this fic. If you have watched it, or this note has made you want to - please let me know what you thought of it. Its beauty to me cannot be understated. 
> 
> Happy listening/reading/watching!

“Itachi-kun, wanna come over and hang out at mine?” Hana asks offhandedly as she dumps her pencil case and notebook into her bag. 

“Mum’s making dinner, we can train and play and you can even sleep over if you like!” she grins at him, sharp canines indenting her lower lip slightly. 

Itachi blinks at her for a moment, taken aback. 

“Sleep…over?” he wonders whether Nanami will allow it, and then shakes his head – his aunt lets him make his own decisions. 

“I… I can come over once I pick up a change of clothes,” he says, finally putting his things into his pack. Hana is waiting for him patiently, her red backpack already slung over her shoulders. 

She nods happily, “Awesome! See you at mine, Itachi!” 

He walks home in a daze. At the entrance of their apartment he shucks his sandals off and sets them neatly on the shoe rack. It smells good inside, like baking and chocolate. He can hear Nanami humming softly from the kitchen. When he turns into the living room he spots Sasuke dozing on the lounge. 

He wanders over and strokes a gentle hand over his downy black hair. 

There’s a plate of cookies resting on the dining table, and Itachi takes a seat on one of the mismatched comfy chairs to inspect them. Some are choc chip, some are sugar cookies, and some look to have fruit in them. 

He singles out a choc-chip one, and bites into it. It’s warm, and the chocolate bits are gooey. 

In the kitchen Nanami is still humming softly, rustling about. Sasuke’s soft snores fill the living area. He inhales the scent of cookies and treasures the taste of chocolate. 

He takes another bite, ignoring the sting at his eyes. It’s delicious. 

The humming stops as his aunt pokes her head around the dividing wall to the kitchen. 

“Oh, back from the academy already?” she smiles, wiping flour-speckled hands onto her light blue apron, “Welcome home, Itachi.” 

Home.

He inhales deeply. Takes another bite of the cookie. 

Home. 

The stinging gives way to warmth, and there’s a hint of salt on his tongue. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” A brief rustle of fabric and Itachi watches through blurry eyes as Nanami pulls the apron over her head. 

In a moment she’s beside him, leaning down to kiss his forehead. 

“Rough day?” she murmurs, bending over as she gathers him into a hug. 

He leans into her soft chest, shaking his head. 

“I-It was a good day,” he says, and he’s close to sobbing now. 

She says nothing more, kneeling beside his chair to hold him more closely to her. 

“I’m h-ome,” his breath hitches as he says the belated greeting. 

Nanami smiles at him, eyes shimmering but not yet wet. There’s understanding in the stroke of her hand down his back. 

He takes a moment to enjoy the embrace. She smells like vanilla and flour. Her chest is soft, her arms are warm, and her hands leave tingles in their wake as they stroke is hair and back in turns.

“Hana invited me for a sleep over tonight,” he mumbles into her chest. 

“Hm?” he can feel her throat vibrate with the sound. 

He drops the cookie to the table top and lifts his arms so they circle around her neck. 

“I accepted,” he says, playing with a soft strand of her hair. He likes twirling the light brown locks around his fingers. 

“That’s nice,” he can hear the smile in her voice. 

“Hm,” he nuzzles into her neck a moment longer before pressing away from her, “do you think she’ll be upset if I don’t sleep there tonight?” 

His aunt cocks her head to the side, making no move to release him from her arms. 

“Do you want to sleep over there sometime?” 

He nods. 

She offers a teasing smile, “Hana-chan is your friend, Itachi. I’m sure she’ll understand. We can head over when Sasuke wakes up from his nap and you can let her know, alright?” 

He nods again. 

When his little brother wakes half an hour later, they make their way through town together. Sasuke is in a sling on Nanami’s back, and Itachi’s hand is placed firmly in hers. 

He’s holding a little box filled with sugar cookies and ginger snaps and some fruit mixes. His aunt had very intentionally not packed any choc-chip ones.

“Dogs can’t eat chocolate,” she’d told him as she wrapped the pretty gift box, “and the Inuzuka often share their food with their ninken. While it’s not likely the chocolate will hurt Hana or her family, its best we try and be diplomatic about it, ne?”

They reach the Inuzuka compound, and Itachi finds he doesn’t mind Hana’s stare at his and Nanami’s joined hands. He only lets go when the adults head inside for tea, but Hana drags him off to play with a litter of mixed puppies and in no time he’s lost in a sea of fur and little rough tongues and soft puppy paws. 

They stay a few hours, until Nanami emerges from the house with the Inuzuka clan head behind her. The sun isn’t far off from setting.

“Itachi,” Nanami’s tone is soft. She extends a hand to him, and when he places it in hers she leans close to his ear and whispers, “have you changed your mind?” 

He hesitates, looking over to Hana for a brief moment. She’d grinned when he told her he wanted to sleep at home, and offered her house up for whenever he felt ready. 

He shakes his head, and his aunt drops a soft kiss to his forehead before turning to face the Inuzuka. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Tsume-san. Please enjoy the cookies!” 

They walk home in the pleasant light of dusk. 

The apartment is glowing with orange sunlight when they get back. 

“I’ll pop dinner on, you start washing up, Itachi. I’ll bring Sasuke in for his bath once the rice is cooking, alright?” 

He nods.

The scent of cookies lingers in the air.

This is home. 

.


	3. Down by the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mothers, grief, relief. Itachi's just glad he gets to hear Sasuke laugh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thanks for popping by. 
> 
> I just really wanna make this story something comforting. Please let me know what I can do to help. 
> 
> This chapter features some... slightly provocative/unethical views on the Uchiha Massacre. It's not meant to offend anyone, I'm trying to write from the perspective of a six year old (albeit, a mature one), and please let me know if it comes across too harshly. I will do my best not to offend in any way. 
> 
> Pro-tip - if you want all the feels, read this story to the Wolf Children OST. You won't regret it. 
> 
> Again, I'm game for any requests. I'll do my best to honour them.
> 
> Enjoy!

They’re sprawled on a picnic blanket on a warm spring day when Sasuke reaches for Nanami and chirps, “Mama!”

Itachi stills from where he’s crouching in the ankle-deep water of the Naka River. There’s little fish swimming about his feet, translucent silver scales shimmering in the reflected sunlight. 

He watches from the corner of his eye as his aunt scoops his brother up beneath the arms before bestowing a large raspberry on his tummy. The pure, irresistible sound of his little brother’s laughter shakes him out of his trance. He wanders over, sitting gingerly at the edge of the blanket before accepting the rice ball Nanami holds out to him. It’s got a smiley face on it made from seaweed. 

He bites into it as he listens to Sasuke babble. 

“Mama, Maaaaaama!” 

He tilts his head to watch as the toddler grabs onto their aunt’s shirt and pulls himself in for a snuggle. 

“Oh, my sweet boy,” Nanami murmurs into his fluffy black hair, breathing in deeply. 

Itachi knows she’s trying to hold on to Sasuke’s baby smell forever. He’s done it enough times himself to understand the urge. 

“Do you mind?” the question is directed at him. He finishes off his rice ball and lets himself fall back onto the picnic blanket, turning his eyes to the few stray clouds in the sky. 

“Hm?” 

A soft weight is placed at his side, and he feels pudgy little hands grabbing at his lengthening hair. 

“I’m not your mother,” Nanami clarifies, and he feels a hand begin to stroke at his hair. He shuts his eyes, and enjoys the feeling of fingers gently scratching his scalp. 

“No, not mine,” he confirms, bringing his own arm around Sasuke to pat gently at his back. 

“Nii!” giggles the toddler, and a slight weight drops on Itachi’s chest. He knows Sasuke has rested his head on him as he traces a hand up and pats his head. 

“But Sasuke…” he takes a moment to listen to the calming sound of the running river. A deep breath in, he can smell the fresh water and his little brother’s baby-scent and Nanami’s floral shampoo. 

“He never knew her. It… wouldn’t be fair to deprive him of you.” 

The hand cording through his hair pauses for a moment. 

“You know I’d love him all the same if we taught him to call me aunty, right?” he can hear the conviction in her tone. It’s one of the things he likes best about her – she’s never gone through ninja training, never tried to deceive him in any way. He smiles as her hand resumes its massaging. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “he deserves a mother like you.” 

The hand never stops stroking his head, but there’s the gentle sting of salt in his next inhale. He feels bad for making her cry, but he needs to communicate how he feels about this. She’s taught him that much already. 

“Nanami?” he speaks up after a few moments.

“Hm, my love?” 

He preens a little at the endearment, despite the anxiety brewing in his chest.

“Shouldn’t I be sad?” he blinks his eyes open at the sky. “Everyone’s gone… and all I feel is-"

He’s embarrassed to say it. 

“Happy?” asks Nanami, “Free? Peaceful?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and spots the tears on her cheeks before much else. He nods. 

“You’ve come from being the heir to the clan. You had so much pressure on you from the day you threw your first kunai.” She swipes at the tears on her cheeks before dropping her hand back to his hair. “It’s okay to be glad that you don’t have to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders.” 

He keeps stroking Sasuke’s super soft hair, even though he can hear his light little snores. 

“It doesn’t mean you didn’t love them,” she says as though she’s seen into his mind, “It doesn’t mean you can’t miss them.” 

He closes his eyes again, and listens to her calm breathing and the gentle rush of water. 

“I’m happy,” he says quietly, “more than I’ve ever been before. I have friends. I-I get to play with Sasuke and eat nice food, and even bake with you. I come home to Sasuke and music and warmth and I’m… glad… that the massacre happened.”

It feels like a weight off his chest. 

When he blinks open his eyes, Nanami is watching him and Sasuke with soft eyes. 

“Me too,” she whispers, leaning down to press smooth lips to his forehead.

He shuts his eyes again and drifts off, even though he’s in the open. Nanami’s hands in his hair, her soft breaths at his temple, the scent of flowers and vanilla – they lull him into dreams of Sasuke and laughter and the feeling of home. 

.


	4. The Treehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi finds his first love! It's not child labour, just a hobby - promise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> After not being able to write anything consistently, like, ever, I'm taking advantage of this surge of inspiration and popping out another chapter. Also, I really want to go to The Treehouse. I'd order a spinach and ricotta roll and some oolong tea, and I'd be too busy inspecting all the little origami napkins to actually use one. 
> 
> Itachi is precious and so is Reika. Tarou is a snarky shit, and Itachi is just lucky he's got a soft spot for kids.

The Treehouse is a café in one of the quieter market districts of Konoha. 

It’s a small place on a corner, with space enough for a few booths, a counter, and some tables by a large wall of windows. There’s outdoor seating beneath big white umbrellas, and inside you can buy cakes and sweets and small savoury pastries. 

The ceiling inside the café is painted with thousands of leaves in varying shades of green. Light seems to filter through them, and deep brown branches are painted in the corners and along the seam between the wall and ceiling. 

It feels like a hideaway below the canopy. 

It feels safe. 

It’s deserted – the sun hasn’t come up yet, though, so he’s not surprised. 

Itachi takes it in with observant eyes flitting over the clean counter and booths until his gaze stops at the little playpen set up in the corner. 

“It’s been here a while,” Nanami says, Sasuke perched on her hip, “when I noticed some customers liked to bring babies small enough to fit into one. They can leave them here for up to an hour if they need to go do their shopping, so long as one of my serving girls keeps an eye on them.” 

He watches as she lowers Sasuke onto the play mat. He grabs the nearest stuffed animal and hurls it to the other end of the playpen. Slowly, he crawls over to it, picks it up, and repeats the process. 

Itachi claims a seat at the long counter, trying not to fidget as he watches Nanami poke her head into the kitchen out back. 

“Reika, Tarou! Come meet my nephews!” 

He hears bickering, and then two figures step out of the kitchen. They’re dressed in all white, long sleeves rolled up with their hair tied back and tucked under funny white caps. 

The woman, Reika, is tall, with light brown skin and eyes the colour of violets. The small part of her hair that’s visible is as black as Itachi’s own. Tarou is almost as tall, with skin as pale as milk and dark blue hair tucked away. His arms, and what’s visible of his neck are covered in black ink. Itachi makes out the shape of a tiger, and a bird somewhere on his right forearm, but he’s distracted by the eagle that stretches up his throat and spreads its wings beneath his jaw. 

“Nice to meet you, brat,” the lady grunts, scowling. 

“Don’t be such a grump, Rei,” says the man jovially, flashing a smile, “how’d you do, Itachi-kun?” 

He bows his head respectfully, “I am well, thanks to the care of Nanami. What are you cooking?” he can’t help but ask. 

They share an amused look between them as Nanami bustles about grabbing small baskets filled with napkins folded into animal shapes before setting them on the tables. 

“We just finished the strawberry tarts,” Tarou says, gesturing behind him, “wanna come see?” 

Itachi nods vigorously, and trots after them into the stainless steel haven that is the kitchen. He gets caught up for the better part of an hour just watching them making pastry bases – and then Reika turns to him, frowning and says, “Well, brat? You just gonna stand there or you gonna get over here and make yourself useful?” 

He jumps on the chance to help, hurrying over to the sink to wash his hands. He has to stand on his tippy toes to reach, but he manages. 

When he turns back around, Reika is holding up a small apron that still looks like it’ll be big on him. After helping him tie it, she efficiently tucks his hair into a hairnet. Itachi has to stand on a chair to reach the centre bench where they’re working, but as soon as he’s sure of his footing he takes up a round cookie cutter at Tarou’s instruction and begins to press it to a large sheet of rolled out pastry. 

Itachi spends the day in the kitchen, excitedly assisting anywhere he can. He chops strawberries for a cake and peels apples for the pies Tarou and Reika have almost finished prepping. 

The café opens at seven in the morning, and immediately customers begin dropping by to pick up spinach and ricotta rolls that Itachi had helped to make. He watches in awe as the big glass display to the left of the till starts emptying of warm savoury pastries. The glass display to its right is full of sweet treats, and by ten they start clearing out, too. 

Two teenage girls walk in at eleven and take over the till and the waiting of tables. Itachi glances out of the kitchen and spots Nanami flitting between customers, catching up and laughing – sometimes Sasuke is perched on her hip, blinking curiously at strangers, and other times he’s babbling away at another baby in the playpen. There’s a small cot set up to the far side of the counter, which is where Itachi finds him between ten and two. 

The kitchen smells like flour and baking pastry, with hints of sweetness when he catches a whiff of fresh custard or chopped fruit. Itachi thinks he might be in love. 

They head home around seven, once all the pastries and sweets are gone and the kitchen has been cleaned. 

Itachi sits on his bed, buzzing with excitement for the next morning – Reika had said that they’ll be making profiteroles, and he’ll get to pipe the cream into them himself! 

He can hear Sasuke babbling at Nanami in their room across the hall. He thinks of his little brother in the playpen, with toys and other babies and children to play with. He thinks of the laughter that had floated through the kitchen door.

He feels warm. 

When he closes his eyes to go to sleep, he sees a canopy of green. The leaves shift in the wind and sunlight slips through. 

He dreams of strawberries on a fluffy white cake and of Tarou patting him on the head, laughing “Good job!”

When they arrive at the café the next morning, Reika and Tarou are already in the kitchen prepping. The purple eyed woman looks harrowed, bags beneath her eyes and her white uniform is ruffled, as though she’s thrown it on straight out of the dryer. 

But when he gets to the kitchen, Itachi finds a white uniform just his size, folded and set atop a step. He blinks at it briefly, and then his brain catches up to what his eyes are seeing.  
There’s a few steps set up around the kitchen – one at his spot on the bench, one at the sink. There’s one beside the large industrial fridge, too. When he glances at the adults in the room, they’re quietly bickering about the pros and cons of using their new scale. Tarou insists on measuring the correct amount of butter, but Reika grumbles that if he’s any good he’d be able to eyeball it. 

Itachi slips into the bathroom and when he comes out, Tarou helps put the white cap on his head. 

Out in the café, he hears Nanami asking Sasuke about which friends he hopes to see today. His brother is babbling back at her. He knows she’ll be sitting at the counter, folding napkins into little animals. 

As he settles onto his new step before the middle-bench, Reika passes him a piping bag full of cream. 

He pretends like he’s not crying, even when Tarou hands him a tissue and pats him softly on the head. 

.


	5. It's a no from Nanami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's a good recipe for Bento: a solid stance, a shower of affection, and a sprinkle of pyromania. 
> 
> That made no sense. You're welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I'm uploading super fast, and I'm unsure if I'll be able to keep up this pace, but please enjoy it for now. There's definitely an alliance of orphans in Konoha, by the way. Those who end up as small business owners do the grocery run in a cycle. They keep an updated list of people in need, and those that make a ninja rank ensure to point out these establishments to other ninja. Teams leave generous tips at them - they know their money will be feeding those in need. 
> 
> I wanna try Nanami's stew. Also, the thing she does at the end - my mum did that and still does that to me, even though I'm 22. I do it to my nephew, and to my boyfriend. It's my way of showing affection, don't judge me!
> 
> Enjoy, and remember I take requests!

Two weeks into their routine of café-life, Nanami leads him into the store early as ever. Instead of just Reika and Tarou, the two serving girls – Kotoe and Sayako – are present. It’s unusual, they usually come around eleven. The adults are lining the tables up against a wall while the girls place big baskets atop them. Itachi counts twenty-three. 

“Itachi-kun!” Sayako sounds tired, but she beckons him over, “Just in time! Could you help us arrange everything in the baskets?” 

He realises belatedly that there’s a small mountain of groceries set on each of the booth tables. 

“Of course,” he says, assessing how to best split the multitude of vegetables, rice, meats, and dairy into each basket. 

Nanami sets Sasuke in the playpen and begins bustling about, laying pretty white and red chequered tablecloths at the base of each woven basket. 

It occurs to him to inquire about the destination of them. 

“Where are we sending them?” he asks Reika, who is frowning at the spread of groceries as though it woke her up this early rather than her blaring alarm clock. He’s come to realise that she’s normally quite reserved and quiet, and that she’s definitely not a morning person. He tries not to bother her too much before seven am. 

“Some to the orphanages. Some to the elderly, and some to disadvantaged families.” 

He blinks over at Nanami, wondering how much it all costs. He can’t say he knows a lot about the market price of vegetables and meat, but he knows buying that much has to be expensive. 

“How do you afford it?” he asks his aunt plainly. 

She glances up from her spot on the counter, where she and Kotoe are folding a small army of green napkin animals. 

“Well, every two weeks Reika and I assess the profits of the café,” he watches as a little green frog is brought to shape with sharp, meaningful folds. 

“Once wages are paid, we ensure the rent and our own supplies are covered, and then we set a part of that aside for a rainy day and use the rest for this.”

Itachi blinks at her. 

“Why?” 

Tarou glances over from behind the counter, where he’s washing a stack of dirty potatoes. Sayako is drying them at his left before placing them in a crate. 

“Nanami met me in the orphanage,” he says, focussing back on his work, “Reika, too. We stuck together, and the matrons and staff did their best – but sometimes it’s hard for them to facilitate as many children as they need to. Sayako and Kotoe come from our old orphanage too, although now they room with a few of their friends as they further their studies.” 

Itachi sets to helping Reika count bags of onions as he listens. 

“We know what it’s like to go hungry.” Tarou falls silent. 

“We’re in a position to help people, Itachi,” Nanami pipes up a moment later, “so, we do. Simple as that.”

“Many of the ninja overpay us intentionally,” Sayako says with a smile, “it started once some of the others at the orphanage began gaining ranks.” 

Itachi nods, and sets off to find an unoccupied basket. He and Reika figure out how to balance the portions and they spend an hour making up the baskets. He belatedly realises why they’d done so much extra prep last night. 

At five-thirty Itachi helps Sayako and Kotoe tuck blue and white chequered tea-towels over the full baskets while Reika and Tarou slip away to begin prep for the day. 

With the leftover groceries Nanami begins to make different dishes – curry, stir fries, stew, broth, rice balls, and a small mountain of bento, all wrapped neatly in blue and white or red and white cloth. Itachi, Sayako and Kotoe help, armed with wooden spoons and seaweed and cute origami napkins. 

At quarter to seven, a team of genin appears outside. 

“Just on time!” Nanami ushers them in, “Please, sit! Have some breakfast before you start delivering!” 

They eat quickly at the counter before hopping up to rearrange the tables and chairs. By seven the mass of bento and all the grocery baskets have been sealed into a range of scrolls intended for different destinations. 

Itachi watches excitedly as the team sets out and Nanami flips the sign on the entrance to ‘open’. 

He hopes whoever gets his bento appreciates the smiley faces he’d made with seaweed on the rice balls. He wonders whether Kotoe will teach him how she shapes them into little bunnies if he asks. 

Itachi grows more comfortable with his life with each passing day. During the week he helps out in the morning with Reika and Tarou, they eat breakfast together, and then Nanami walks him to the academy. People still stare – some with curiosity, some with pity so thick it makes him feel claustrophobic. He hopes they stop soon. 

He glues himself to Hana’s side during academy hours. She’s brash and loud, but she’s kind. She gives warm hugs. She loves dogs, too, and they sometimes sneak away at lunchtime on miniature missions to rescue small animals or pet dogs. Itachi makes sure they never get caught. 

Sasuke is growing, trying his hardest to speak. Itachi always makes an effort to talk to him as though he understands what he’s saying. He’s got a little posse of baby friends – there’s Kiba, Hana’s tiny little brother, and civilian twin girls, Ami and Yuuna. There’s a grey haired baby named Akihiko who bites any and all other people – gently, though. And recently, a friend of Nanami had brought in a baby a few months older than him. She had pink hair and bright green eyes, and her name: Sakura. Itachi thinks she’s cute, with her bright laughter and constant smiles. She’s friendly and trusting and she’s content to sit on Itachi’s lap and babble at him when all Sasuke seems to want to do is explore everything in sight. 

It’s nearing the end of the school year when Itachi’s teacher, Tanaka-sensei, requests a meeting with Nanami. 

She holds the note in one hand as she stirs their dinner with the other, frowning contemplatively. 

“Why do you think they’re asking to meet with me?” she questions, handing it back to him before turning down the heat to set the stew to a simmer. 

Itachi averts his gaze to the window. He knows exactly why they’re summoning her. 

“They… most likely wish to gain permission to fast-track my graduation.” 

Something churns in his gut. He doesn’t want to think about what this means for his friendship with Hana, or his mornings in the café. It’ll all be secondary to his duty to the village. 

“And they need my permission as your guardian to do that?” Nanami is adding salt, stirring as she goes. 

“Yes.” His voice sounds flat. 

“Oh.” 

There’s a moment of silence as she tastes the stew. 

“That’s simple then. No.” 

Itachi’s head snaps to face her, lips pressed into a hard line. 

“What?” his voice is steadier than he feels. 

“You’re not graduating early. Not under any circumstances.” Her tone is light, as though she’s sitting at the counter in The Treehouse folding napkins, chatting to a customer about the price of tomatoes. 

“Why…?” He edges closer to the island bench and takes a seat on one of the high stools. 

She slants a look at him out of the corner of her eye, and suddenly she doesn’t seem soft anymore. There’s a cold edge to her, a firmness that he’s never seen before. 

“I know I let you make your own decisions. But this,” she turns off the gas and leans against the counter as she turns to face him, “I won’t budge on.”

He waits for her to elaborate. 

“If I give you a choice, you’ll do what you think is best for the village. You’ll set aside your friends and your hobbies and your own desires and you’ll do your duty.” 

He sees echoes of his stoic father in the panes of her face. 

“So, I won’t give you the choice. I’ll say no, and not give anyone else the chance to sway you.” 

Itachi blinks at her. 

He feels… relieved. 

“Okay,” he says quietly. 

“But! But-” the cold look is gone, and she looks a little flustered now, “if it’s what you really want I don’t want to take the choice away from you entirely. Maybe we could look at getting you an apprenticeship – in village only, or perhaps discuss further training options with the Hokage-”

“Nanami,” he cuts in, struggling to supress a smile, “I… I’m fine with you saying no for me. Thank you.” 

She grins at him, and moves faster than he’s ever seen before as she darts forward and presses his face between her hands. 

“My clever boy,” she laughs, pressing kisses to every part of his face possible, “I knew you’d understand.” 

“Nanami!” Itachi is blushing, he can feel his face getting unbearably hot as he tries to wriggle away. 

“Oh, please, you’re always so composed – let me have this, Ita-chan,” a kiss to the top of his nose. 

He doesn’t stay anything, but he stops his escape attempts. Both he and Nanami know how easily he could break away, even at six he’s able to outmanoeuvre her. 

The moment is broken as Sasuke makes his wakefulness known with a loud yell. 

One more kiss, to the centre of his forehead, and then she shoos him off to collect his brother. 

He smiles at Sasuke so hard his cheeks hurt, and his brother screeches excitedly as Itachi sets him on his hip. 

A small part of him is giddy, wondering what face Tanaka-sensei will make when Nanami rebuffs him with what will undoubtedly be a charming smile. 

Sasuke decides a fistful of Itachi’s hair would be better suited in his mouth. Nanami fusses over them as they walk into the kitchen. 

Before he goes to bed that night, he rips the academy summon to bits and sets the scraps on fire. 

 

.


	6. A Good Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi is confused. Itachi is nosy. Itachi is happy.
> 
> TL:DR - Itachi gets to be a kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Another fast upload haha! Excuse any grammatical errors, I don't have a beta atm and I'm not a reliable editor for my own work hahah oops. 
> 
> I want pancakes. And to see the new uniform. Also, puppies. 
> 
> Thank you for your continued support, please enjoy!

Itachi wakes slowly. He remains in bed for a moment, blinking blearily up at the ceiling before he realises there’s no alarm clock ringing. 

He sits up so fast his head spins, and races into the living room. It’s silent and dark, but the city is still intact beyond the glass doors of the balcony. He breathes a sigh of relief. There’s no apocalypse, then. Good. 

Humming from the kitchen, and he pads in to find Nanami at the stove. She’s making pancakes, a bowl of blueberries and a bowl of choc-chips beside her. 

“Good morning,” she smiles at him over her shoulder, “Wanna help out?” 

He nods, masking his confusion – were they not required at the café this morning? Were Reika and Tarou… sick of him? The thought makes him feel small. 

They make lots and lots of pancakes, more than they could eat combined – and they can both eat a lot. 

Nanami puts them on plates and covers them with foil. 

“You run off and get dressed, love, I’ll get your brother ready.” 

Itachi disappears in a flash and changes as quickly as he can. They’re on semester break, so he can’t imagine Nanami having to go for a meeting with anyone. Why, then, did she look so nice?  
She’d been wearing a yellow sundress with tiny white flowers embroidered all over it. It was nice. She looked pretty. 

Itachi wonders whether she’s seeing… him today. He feels guilty just thinking about it. 

A few days after the massacre, he’d been lying in bed unable to sleep. Someone had joined Nanami in the living room – Itachi hadn’t heard the front door open, so they must’ve come in from the balcony. 

“Thank you for coming,” his aunt had sounded stiff. 

A rustle of fabric. 

“So you’re, like, a guardian to those kids now, right?” the voice was deep, lilting. Undeniably a man. 

He’d tried to stop listening, honest, but Itachi wasn’t very good at minding his own business. 

“Yes,” Nanami sounded clipped. Like someone was pressing on a bruise. 

Silence. 

“You know it’s a bit much, right?” he sounded gruff. “You were a no baggage kinda woman. No in-laws, no crazy ex. But… kids.” A low whistle. “You’re only twenty-two – how’s this gonna affect your life?” 

Itachi thought he should have said ‘affect us’ instead. That’s what he meant. May as well be honest about it. 

“I think it’s best we end this.” Itachi wanted to curl even further into his bed, wishing for Sasuke to be close by for a snuggle. If he strained, he could hear soft baby snores from the room across the hall. He still felt inexplicably guilty at the sound of his aunt’s shaky voice.

“My boys… need stability. We were only a couple months in, and you’ve made it clear you’re not ready for that kind of commitment.” 

A deep sigh. 

“I appreciate your honesty, by the way,” he could hear the smile in her tone. Itachi had wondered whether it wobbled the same way his did when he pretended to be happy. 

“No problem,” the man’s voice sounded thicker than before. “Good luck, Nanami.” 

A wet laugh. 

“Thanks.” 

Itachi still wants to cry thinking about the weight behind her shaking voice. 

He realises that he can hear Nanami struggling to wrestle Sasuke into his clothes in their room across the hall and hurries to help her. Before long they’re out on the dark streets of early morning, headed to café. 

It puts a bounce in his step just to think about his uniform, hanging in the back room alongside Reika and Tarou’s. 

But when they reach the building where the café is situated, Nanami leads them to a door he’s never seen before. The sky is lightening as they enter a stairwell and make their way up. Sasuke’s babbling echoes against the concrete. It makes Itachi smile to himself.

At the top of the stairs there’s a door, and when his aunt pushes it open they’re on the roof. Itachi blinks in surprise at the sight of Tarou bickering with Inuzuka Tsume while Reika stands protectively in front of a fold-up table, hunched over a cup of coffee. 

“Itachi-kun!” Hana shrieks from her spot beside the low wall overlooking the market, much too loudly for Reika who flinches violently. 

Itachi continues to stare uncomprehendingly as Nanami palms Sasuke off to Tarou and sets her basket on the table to begin unloading the haul of pancakes. 

“Is he alright?” Reika grumbles, edging closer to the thermos of coffee she’d been guarding, lest Nanami get any ideas. 

Tarou, busy bouncing Sasuke and making silly faces at a grumpy Kiba, ignores her. 

Nanami is adding her goods to the fold-up table, which already holds waffles and freshly chopped fruit. 

Hana trots over and pokes him in the forehead. 

“Are you broken, you big dummy?”

She glances over at his aunt, “Nanami-san, is he sleep walking or something? Gee, I thought he’d be excited that he turns seven today!” 

Wait, what?

Itachi’s mind is whirring, trying to recall the date – today is - today is –

“Happy birthday, Itachi!” Tsume cuts into his intense focus with a feral grin. 

“Oh!” Nanami whirls to him, her pretty dress flaring, “I haven’t said it yet, how rude!” 

She hurries over to him and lifts him off his feet in a bear hug. 

“Happy birthday, my precious boy,” she murmurs into his hair. A kiss to the forehead, and he’s set back onto his feet. “Come along now, we better eat before the pancakes get cold!” 

Itachi follows in a daze, grabbing a plastic plate and nodding in thanks for Reika’s grumbled happy birthday and Tarou’s playful hair ruffle as he sings a terrible rendition of the birthday song. 

It’s not till his mouth is full of choc-chip pancake that he realises the sun is rising. 

He and Hana sit on a nearby generator and watch the horizon glow with orange light as the adults chat and laugh over coffee and fruit. Kiba and Sasuke are messily trying to eat watermelon through their little baby-safe nets that Tsume had supplied. It lets them get all the juice but no solids, minimising any chance of choking. 

“Hey, hey, Itachi – I know you’re probably busy today, but have a surprise for you a bit later, okay?” 

Itachi nods as he bites down on a strawberry. 

Once they’re done eating, Reika tosses him a parcel. He opens it, careful not to tear the wrapping paper. It’s got little dancing dango on it. Inside there’s a white uniform, almost identical to the one downstairs – but on the top to the left of the high collar ‘Itachi’ has been embroidered. His hair cap has a strawberry sewn onto its main band, and the hems of his pants are patterned with tiny dog paw prints in different colours. 

He hugs Reika tightly, and she lets him. It’s almost as good as the present. 

Tarou presents him with his own rolling pin, a set of customised knives, and a cookbook. Even if he ruffles his hair beyond the point of salvation, Itachi still smiles at him until his cheeks hurt.

Tsume gifts him with an armband that allows him access to the Inuzuka compound at any time, from any entrance. He tries not to think too hard about the significance of such a gift. He bows deeply in gratitude. Tsume is a Clan Head, and old habits die hard. 

Nanami seems to be buzzing with nervous energy as she hands him two massive books. Upon closer inspection, they’re scrap books. 

The first one he opens knocks the breath out of him. Pictures of his clan, of his cousins and his parents and elders stare up at him. Beside each picture, in flowing handwriting that Itachi immediately recognises as Nanami’s, is a description of each person. Below her handwriting there’s often other, unfamiliar writing. 

“I went around the village and found people who were touched by the Uchiha in some way,” his aunt explains softly, “I didn’t know everyone, and I wasn’t close with many. I didn’t want you to think that you were alone in holding on to their memory, Itachi.”

He traces the words of strangers, recalling funny stories, or personality traits, or even small statements like ‘best arm wrestler in the jounin lounge’, or ‘complete sucker for crappy daytime tv. Especially the cheesy romance type’. He wonders at the multitude of people who were friends, teammates, lovers of his clansmen. 

“Your clan might have been a little stuffy and stiff,” Nanami chuckles, and strokes a hand over his back, “but they were well loved. They will be dearly missed. And they will be fondly remembered.” 

He blinks hard, and doesn’t bother wiping his tears away as he gives her a wobbly smile. 

“Thank you.” 

She kisses the top of his head, and then prompts him to open the other book.

He cocks his head to the side as he realises its empty. 

“This one’s for you to create,” she explains, and then she pulls another box from below the fold up table, and simply says, “From The Treehouse.” 

He opens it to find a camera. It’s an instant type, and he hurriedly fumbles to figure out how to insert the self-developing film. He doesn’t want to think about how much it must have cost.

“And finally, mine!” Hana steps forward, struggling to carry a large box. She sets it on the ground before him, and he carefully places the camera around his neck. 

He opens the box. Inside, there’s decorative tape, scissors, gel and glitter pens, pencils and crayons of all colours and types, and even watercolour paint and a collection of brushes. He picks up a roll of tape. It’s blue, with red dog-bones and paw prints marking its length. 

He sniffles a little before making a few quick hand signs. A clone pops to life beside him, and he quickly hands over the camera. 

“I would like a photo, please,” he’s very proud that his voice doesn’t quaver. 

Tarou grins, and goes about tidying Itachi’s hair from his ruthless ruffling earlier. 

They assemble before the fold-up table. Tsume, Tarou, Reika and Nanami stand behind Hana and Itachi. Tsume holds a snoozing Kiba, and Itachi cradles his brother happily. 

His aunt’s hand is resting on his shoulder, the other atop Sasuke’s fluffy head. 

“Three, two, one!” 

A flash. 

When the image develops, it reveals a scene that Itachi will never let himself forget. 

Tarou is smiling broadly, an arm thrown around the women beside him. Reika is scowling at him out of the corner of her eye, and Tsume is outright laughing at them both, with Kiba asleep in her arms. Nanami is smiling prettily, and Hana has her best ‘I’m innocent, don’t mind me’ face on. Sasuke has his whole fist in his mouth, drooling everywhere. Itachi is in the middle, smiling helplessly. 

It’s the first photo in his scrapbook. He and Hana decorate the first page with gold glitter gel pens and puppy stickers as they sit in a booth at the café for the rest of the morning. 

Around midday Tsume insists on taking Sasuke to nap at the Inuzuka compound, and Itachi tags along with Hana who is very excited to show him her surprise. 

When they get there, she drags him off to the kennels and he’s greeted by a new litter of teeny tiny puppies that can’t be more than a few weeks old. He gets lots of excited licks and he and Hana even try and race them. It doesn’t work, but they laugh hard enough to draw the attention of some of the other Inuzuka clan children and then they get roped into a game of tag. 

By the time Nanami picks them up in the afternoon, Itachi is positive this is his best birthday ever. He pushes away the niggling guilt and the threatening melancholy that comes with thinking of his cousin and once-best-friend, and his mother and father.

His therapist, a friend of his aunt, has been helping him process and cope with those negative emotions. It’s not his fault. He’s allowed to feel happy. He repeats these affirmations to himself as they walk home.

He resolutely thinks about how Sasuke is only ever going to know these wonderful birthdays. No pressure, no schedule, no strict party or skill evaluations. 

As they enter their apartment, he turns to Nanami. She sets Sasuke on the ground and he crawls hurriedly into the living room. 

“Thank you,” Itachi says again, pressing forward to hug her around the middle, “for the scrap books and the breakfast and – and-”

He wants to thank her for taking them in. For teaching him to smile, for changing Sasuke’s dirty nappies and walking Itachi to the academy every day. For making their apartment a home and giving the best hugs. For loving them so much it makes him feel warm, even when it’s cold outside. 

He can’t get any of it out past his suddenly heavy tongue. 

“It’s not a worry,” she laughs softly, hugging him closer, “anything for my boys.” 

He feels affection bubbling up within him, threatening to explode.

At night he rests in bed, full of yummy food. He thinks about his new customised uniform and the equipment sitting on his bench in the café kitchen, waiting to be used. He thinks about the scrapbooks tucked safely into his growing bookshelf and the art supplies set neatly onto his desk. 

He thinks about the camera on his bedside table.

Itachi smiles for what feels like the hundredth time today. 

When he shuts his eyes he sees green leaves overhead, swaying in the breeze. 

.


	7. In Her Shoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look into Nanami's world. Not everything is sunshine and rainbows all the time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Just a short one this time. A little snapshot of Nanami. The majority of this story so far has been told through Itachi, but I plan on including bits of perspective from Nanami, and later, Sasuke. I will be dropping a different character perspectives every now and then, and am open to requested perspectives if you're interested at all. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Nanami has always been the responsible one. When they were still small enough to get into orphanage and school scraps, it was usually Nanami mediating between whoever Tarou had goaded into an argument while he and Reika sulked behind her. 

Even now, Tarou’s complete lack of filter gets him in trouble. Reika leaps to his defence because he’s annoying and all, but he’s their friend. Fists fly, words are spat, someone’s bleeding (usually whoever Reika is up against), and Nanami is left yelling at everyone to calm down. She spends hours soothing offended parties, scolding her friends for their hotheadedness. 

“Keep your heads down,” it’s the only time she’s ever worked up enough to lose her composure, “you wanna get noticed in a village that will literally send you off to die the moment you show combative potential?” 

She’s always been the smart one. 

As children she was the one who made them dumb themselves down to less than average. She’d been the one to realise that the clever children always disappeared, and no one at the orphanage cared about them enough to go looking. 

When Mikoto approached her for the first time, she freaked out. 

The sharingan – one of the most coveted bloodline limits in Konoha – her DNA gave her a predisposition to developing it. She almost wept when she realised what it meant. 

Tarou and Reika had been helping her lie low since that day. It had been going well. 

Up until – well.

Oh, she should have known. Mikoto had come to her suddenly, deviating from their carefully set schedule and looking nothing like her usual impeccable self. 

“Promise me you’ll look out for my sons,” she’d been grasping Nanami’s forearms so hard that it hurt. “Please, sister. I- something is going to happen. I’ve been trying to push against it, but – oh, I’ve said too much already. Please, Nanami. Please.”

And then, the massacre. 

She may have had a minor breakdown. Maybe. Sorta. Definitely. 

If- If Shisui had known would he have come for her? Was her survival an accident, or had she remained truly insignificant enough to not register as a factor on his radar?

The panic attacks wouldn’t stop for a few days. Reika and Tarou set up camp in her apartment, coaching her through them, feeding her, making sure she had someone to turn to when she woke up shaking. 

But then the news of the survivors trickled in to her apartment, and all thoughts of self-preservation flew from her mind. 

She went to a therapist for a week, got a physical done. Good. Healthy. 

And then she’d marched herself to the Hokage Tower, presented evidence of her heritage, and signed for custody of her nephews until they came of age. 

It was hard. Having a business with Tarou and Reika by the age of twenty-two was one of her greatest achievements. Children, surely, couldn’t be that much more difficult?

.

It is so much more difficult. 

Sasuke’s young enough to understand nothing but the fact that his mother isn’t around. He’s fussy and clingy and she’s sure that not an item of clothing she owns isn’t stained with baby vomit.

He’s a fitful sleeper, and sometimes nothing will settle him – so she just holds him and wanders her apartment, humming and checking in on Itachi. Some nights she doesn’t sleep at all. The bags below her eyes grow darker, and her clothes are all dirty and she wonders how the fuck people do this. 

But he’s a baby, unable to remember the massacre, and beyond the first few weeks, possibly unable to differentiate her from Mikoto. 

Itachi – well, he’d been in a coma for three weeks following the incident. He’d been put through psychological torture, and forced to watch the murder of his parents. 

He’s six. Still small enough for her to carry him easily, even though she isn’t every tall. 

Quiet, withdrawn. His dark, observant eyes track her every move. His face remains blank almost constantly. Occasionally he cries, in a stunted, confused kind of way – tears and hiccups, but a straight face, a frown. He wakes up screaming, eyes spinning red. He lets her hold him. 

She knows shock when she sees it, and she knows that not all of his behaviour can be attributed to it. She curses Konoha internally more than ever – they have normalised things like murder and child warriors. She hates that she can’t make out his thoughts at any given time – she’s always prided herself on being able to read people. 

But she keeps at it. Eventually he stops being so stiff when she hugs him. She still struggles to make him interested in anything that isn’t holding Sasuke, or changing Sasuke, or bathing Sasuke, or feeding Sasuke. 

Slowly, he opens up. Nanami sees sadness. Confusion. Grief. 

And – guilt. 

It breaks her heart – he’s six. 

She wonders constantly whether she is the best person to do this. Is she qualified? She's never even owned a pet, how the hell is she supposed to raise children? Uncertainty churns in her gut and even when Sasuke sleeps through the night she finds herself awake. 

But she keeps at it. She continues to edge her way into their lives. She watches Itachi make friends at her prompting – well, a friend. Inuzuka Hana, the sweet girl, a godsend. 

And then – Itachi began talking about dogs. Sparsely, and still stilted, but his excitement for them is obvious. 

He reaches out for hugs, nuzzles closer to her on the couch or when she wakes him in the morning. 

Tears and smiles, they both begin to come more freely. 

The sight of him crying at the dining table after the academy – that makes her breathe a sigh of relief – finally he’s comfortable enough to show her how he feels. 

She keeps at it, and works on integrating herself into their lives. 

Itachi’s passion for cooking is unexpected, but welcome all the same. Even Reika, who had outright refused to deal with any children below the age of twelve, found herself unable to fault his perfectionist tendencies.

When the violet eyed woman asks for his rough measurements, Nanami supplies them with a smile. 

Reika shows up to the café extra grumpy for lack of sleep, looking particularly ruffled, but there’s an outfit that Nanami knows she’s sewn from one of her spare uniforms set aside in the kitchen.

Itachi takes to The Treehouse like a fish to water. 

And slowly, Nanami feels like she’s on track. 

To what, exactly, she doesn’t know. But the boys are hers, and they’re happy – well, Itachi is on his way to it. 

She smiles, and keeps at it. 

.


	8. A night in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nanami loves cocktails. Also, she is the worst at improvisation. Somehow she still manages to be a good wingwoman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Another chapter, again from Nanami's perspective. I'll be getting back to Itachi soon, though, so if you don't enjoy these have no fear! 
> 
> Reika is a grump who will fight anyone and everyone and also has a camera in all her bags. For blackmail. And occasionally, sentiment. 
> 
> Tarou and Itachi watched Ninja Blade 3. There was nudity and gore, but the thing that disturbed Itachi the most was learning that actors used stunt doubles. Why not... just train? He will forever be confused.

When Nanami opens her door on Friday evening, she’s not expecting Tarou to be waiting, a green stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a dvd in the other. 

“Um,” is all she has time to say before he’s breezing past her into the apartment, kicking his shoes off carelessly by the door. 

“Shh!” she hurriedly shuts and locks the door before scrambling behind him, “I just put Sasuke to sleep, you’re gonna wake him!” 

Tarou waves her off, plopping himself on the lounge beside Itachi, who is avidly focused on the most recent episode of Gossip Nin. 

“Don’t mind me, been here enough to know his schedule. Just go get ready.” 

Nanami stands in the doorway, blinking at him. Did they have something on tonight?

“Stop thinking so hard and just go. Reika will be here in half an hour and if you’re not ready by then she’ll chew me out.” 

She hesitates. 

Tarou heaves a sigh and levels her with a glare, “You’ve been running around for months without a break. You’re gonna go put on a nice outfit that doesn’t smell like baby vomit, you’re gonna do your hair and makeup, and you’re gonna get blackout drunk with Reika.” 

She opens her mouth to protest, but he cuts her off-

“I’m more than capable of holding the fort for tonight,” he focuses on the tv, “now go get ready.” 

She snaps her mouth shut, and beelines for her room. Grabbing an outfit with the criteria of: not dirty, she hurries into the bathroom and showers quickly before donning light makeup and running her hands through her hair a couple of times. 

With her bags concealed and a bit of eyeliner, she looks good. Her outfit has ended up being a little black dress, with skinny noodle straps and a flat neckline that rests at the top of her cleavage. It’s tight, flattering, but it comes to her knees so she likes to think it looks classy. 

She grabs a pair of burgundy red open sandal-style stilettos from her wardrobe as silently as she can before she creeps back into the living room. 

“Acceptable,” Tarou is giving her a once over, “You look like you’ve lost a bit of weight, though. Makes your waist seem smaller, but it’s throwing your hips and tits out of proportion. They look a bit exaggerated now.” 

Luckily, Itachi is too invested in the dramatic tv show to be listening to his commentary. 

“Grab the clutch that matches your shoes, and I’ll give you the all clear.”

She hurries to do so, swiping on some red lipstick as she goes. 

“Good.” Tarou nods just as there’s a knock at the door. 

She barely has time to put her heels on before Reika drags her out the door, bee-lining for the nearest bar. It’s their usual joint, with a live band playing in the corner, pool tables lined along a wall, and a mass of people, both ninja and civilian. 

Somehow they get a table and Reika strong-arms her way to the bar to order drinks. Nanami sits at the table, twiddling her thumbs and wondering if this is really okay. The boys are on her mind, and she curses herself for not checking what movie Tarou had brought along with him. What if it had been R rated? Oh, it was probably R rated. 

She grabs her clutch and stands quickly, getting ready to sprint to her nephew’s rescue – a brown hand latches on to her bicep before she can. 

“Nuh uh,” Reika drags her back into her seat, “we’re gonna sit here and you’re gonna enjoy yourself, you hear me?” 

It’s been years, but Nanami is still susceptible to Reika’s I-will-hurt-you-face. Despite knowing full well that she will never take it that far. 

“So,” says the woman sitting opposite her, tone suddenly much lighter, “anyone catch your eye?”

Nanami supresses a groan, dropping her face into her hands as she slumps unattractively over the table. 

“Tarou put you up to this, didn’t he?” 

She peeks through her fingers and spots sharp violet eyes scanning the room. 

“Come on, Nanami,” a rare, sharp grin, “a girls night is so rare. May as well take the opportunity to get the pretty ones before Tarou notices and tries to make it a competition.” 

Nanami can only sigh, and grumble in agreement. Tarou is by far the most charismatic of their standard trio, and it’s surprising how many people dig his blunt, almost outright rude pickup lines. 

“You know the ones I like don’t seem to see me over his fat head.” 

Okay, she’s laughing now because it’s true. It’s been ages since she and Reika had first pick of anyone or anything. 

Their drinks arrive, a tray loaded with their usual favourites. There’s sake and whiskey for Reika, and a bright collection of over-the-top cocktails for Nanami. 

They’re silent for five minutes as they begin downing as much alcohol in as short a time as possible. 

“Okay,” Nanami says at long last, sighing, “you’re right. We needed this.”

Reika nods loftily, but she’s busy having eye-sex with a gorgeous blonde waiter across the room.

“Tarou messed around with her last December,” Nanami reminds her, “you’re gonna give us a bad reputation when you hit it and quit it, y’know.”

“Tarou this, Tarou that,” Reika mimics Nanami’s higher voice, “I spend enough time with that idiot already, don’t let him ruin this for me tonight.” 

A giggle and she picks up her fourth cocktail happily. It somehow tastes like apple pie. 

“How did things end with that Nara guy, anyway?” 

She chokes as she inhales and it’s only Reika’s harsh thumping on her back that stops her from coughing up a lung. 

“Um,” she takes another sip despite the traitorous apple cocktail’s very recent attempt to kill her, “I ended it.” 

Her friend stiffens. A head slowly turns to face her. Damn. Reika’s got a whiff of fresh blood, and she’s not backing off. 

“Oh?”

Nanami doesn’t know how one word manages to sound so malicious. 

A brief flash of teeth – not the friendly kind. The aggressive kind. 

“He-He and I agreed that it was time to go our separate ways, I didn’t want to scare the boys, and – and he obviously didn’t sign up for kids, so we just-”

She stops talking and resumes drinking, gulping desperately at her drink until it’s gone. She swipes up another and resumes her attempts to drown herself while Reika becomes increasingly menacing in the corner of her eye. 

“Nanami,” a strong hand on her shoulder, “I’ll kill him.”

“NO, no, no,” she’s spluttering now, frantically trying to distract her friend as sharp violet eyes scan the room for any potential leads, “please, Rei-chan, I promise it was mutual this time! Not like Akihito, or Daisuke, or-”

She cuts herself off, realising that her grocery list of crappy men isn’t helping calm Reika at all. 

“No one will find his body.”

Nanami squeaks in distress as Reika stands in one fluid movement, desperately flinging herself forward to latch onto a well-muscled arm.

“Reika, I don’t have time to bail you out of jail, please no-”

“Everything alright here?” a smooth, exasperated voice questions. 

Nanami glances up at the blonde waiter and almost cries with relief. 

“No!” she exclaims, scrambling to her feet, “I spilt drink on my friend, and she needs you to take her to the back room to dry off!” 

The blonde woman quirks a brow at Reika’s still fuming and obviously dry form. Nanami grabs her cocktail, and splashes it straight into her friend’s chest. 

Two pairs of eyes stare at her. One incredulously, and one – this one, Nanami is definitely more wary of – murderously. 

“Oh, clumsy me!” she laughs nervously, wondering how she can be so bad at things, “Reika, hurry along with this lovely waitress, she’ll get you cleaned up in no time!”

There’s a moment when Reika’s furious violet eyes meet the object of her fancy. Nanami sees understanding on the woman’s pretty face, and then she smiles coyly. 

“What a terrible accident,” she comments, spinning towards the back room, “if you’ll follow me I can help you out.” 

Reika hesitates only for a second, turning to her and hissing, “You’re lucky that idiotic plan worked!” before storming off after her. 

Nanami slumps back in her chair, relief making her knees weak. That, and standing so quickly had sent the alcohol straight to her head. 

“Crisis: averted,” she huffs around her straw. She realises belatedly that there’s nothing left in her glass and curses her decision to waste her last cocktail on Reika’s pretty black top. Ah, well. Great rewards require great sacrifice and all that. 

A man sits himself in Reika’s seat, somehow holding four drinks. Four brightly coloured drinks. 

“I noticed you downing these like they’re water,” he says dryly, “and currently my clan is watching me to ensure I’m making sufficient attempts at courtship.”

She wrenches her gaze from the cocktails to his face, only now noticing his fine Hyuuga facial structure and eerily white eyes. 

“In that case,” she takes a drink from him, and brings it to her lips, “I’m Nanami, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

He nods, setting the rest of the glasses on the table. 

“You’re welcome to sit here and listen to me babble so long as you keep those coming.” She’s halfway through his first offering, humming happily to herself, “I’ll make sure to sound positively enamoured by you.” 

He nods again, stoic. 

Smiling around her straw, Nanami decides that, yeah, she’s gonna do this again. Even later, stumbling home with a self-satisfied Reika at three in the morning, she resolves to do it again. 

Somehow she manages not to wake Tarou or Itachi, who are crashed on the couch leaning against one another. Reika snaps a picture, and Nanami just lies face down on her comfy living room carpet and passes out. 

If Reika takes a picture of that, too, no one will know. (Except at Nanami’s birthday party. Then everyone will know)

.


	9. Tarou Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi and Tarou spend an afternoon together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> It's back to Itachi and his precious soft boi self. I love him immensely. Almost as much as he loves dogs, or cuddles. 
> 
> Reika and Sasuke went to the park and terrorised everyone there, by the way. Baby Sasuke is a genius at imitating body language, and that's Reika's primary form of communication, so - tiny infant protege will begin his reign of playground domination from this day forth. 
> 
> I want hot pot. And to see baby Sasuke in sunglasses and his red cap. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Itachi blinks up at the man before him. Reika had taken Sasuke, and Tarou had insisted on minding Itachi, to give Nanami a break. She’d had a particularly rough morning at the café, and Itachi liked to think he was part of the decision to allow his caretaker an afternoon to herself. 

Of course, Tarou lives in a studio apartment that isn’t very appropriate for entertaining children, so they end up at Nanami’s place anyway. The woman herself is at the onsen, which at least means they won’t be in her way. 

“So,” Tarou begins, smiling easily, “what’s a little punk like you get up to in your free time anyway?” 

Itachi thinks hard for a moment.

“Well, I train. Sometimes Hana and I will go looking for new dogs around the village. I add to my scrapbook whenever I can, but it’s up to date right now.”

The navy haired man nods shortly. 

“Anything in particular you feel like doing?” 

Another moment of thought. 

“Could you teach me how to make hotpot?” He’s estimated that Nanami will arrive home in time for dinner. It’ll be nice to make her something yummy. 

Tarou quirks a brow, “You’re too perceptive for your own good,” he starts towards the kitchen, “come on, we’ll see what your aunt’s got in the fridge and make a list of what we need.” 

Within ten minutes they’re out the door and walking the familiar streets of the market district. Itachi holds the list and rattles off the different vegetables and meats they need for dinner. 

As Tarou negotiates as good a price as possible for some high quality beef, Itachi wanders over to a stall set up in the shade of a building. He’s seen one like it before, they’re popular around Konoha, usually selling knick-knacks.

He lets his eyes roam the stand. Newspapers, magazines, snacks, hair clips, makeup – dark eyes settle on a little bottle of pastel yellow… paint? Itachi inches closer, narrowing his eyes. It’s a pretty colour. 

Tarou sidles up to the stand, snatching the bottle up and flashing it at the vendor, “We’ll take this.” 

It’s promptly shoved into Itachi’s hands as the man jostles his pockets and hands over a few coins as payment. 

“You probably think I spent a long time bargaining for that meat, eh?” Tarou’s got a weird glint in his eye. The same one he gets when he and Reika race to finish more strawberry tarts than each other. 

“Whenever possible, you need to – and I cannot stress this enough - eat high quality food.”

Itachi nods, confused. 

“You never know when your ability to do so will disappear,” he says, and Itachi immediately thinks to their conversation at his first grocery run for The Treehouse. 

“Okay, Tarou,” he intones solemnly. He will make sure he hunts down the best quality food, and he will always try to save some for Tarou. 

They let themselves into the apartment and get to work, chopping all the vegetables and meat, prepping the noodles, and readying the broth. They leave their work on the bench with some tea towels atop the many bowls. Itachi silently vows to do all the dishes, wishing he had picked something that wasn’t so messy. 

“Here,” Tarou extends a hand and makes grabby motions, “where’d you put-”

Itachi has the bottle in his hand before he can blink. 

The adult doesn’t startle, but his heavily tattooed arm flinches minutely. 

“Right,” he says, spinning on his heel and making for the living room, “let’s put on something good.”

They pink out Ninja Blade 6. Itachi doesn’t mention that he hasn’t yet watched any instalment of the series in sequential order, and instead asks, “Are the action scenes in this as bad as they were in number two?” 

Tarou smirks. 

“Look at you, being all highbrow. Aw, you’ve mastered Reika’s ‘I’m superior’ face, so cute!” 

Itachi doesn’t smile. It’ll ruin his expression. (He’s not telling Tarou that he spent a week trying to perfect it in the mirror)

He takes a seat beside the tattooed man on the comfy lounge.

“Hand,” says Tarou shortly. 

Itachi extends it, head cocked to the side. Why would he need –

The little yellow bottle of paint gets opened. It’s got a tiny brush on the end, and Tarou begins swiping it down Itachi’s thumb nail carefully. 

“Don’t get any of this stuff on the lounge, okay?” he’s frowning in extreme concentration. 

“Okay.” 

He watches, ignoring the introductory music of Ninja Blade, as each nail is coated with a fine sheen of pastel yellow paint. It looks cute. 

“Right,” says Tarou, palming the bottle off to Itachi, “don’t let them touch anything till they dry. Now do me.” 

Itachi carefully and swiftly paints his short, well-groomed nails. He’s never seen him wear anything on his hands aside from his tattoos, but he supposes it looks good. 

“And don’t tell Nanami we used nail polish on the couch. She might just kill us.”

He nods, even though he sincerely doubts it. Nanami will kill Tarou. She won’t do much else to Itachi aside from asking him not to do it again. (He’ll listen, because she has a point)

They watch the film while waiting for their nails to dry, upon which Tarou insists on a second coat. Itachi agrees with him when he sees the solidification of the colour. He deems it as definitely worth his time. 

“Now, it’s important that we keep our hygiene standards up in the kitchen, so when we return to work tomorrow we’ll have to wear gloves until we can get our hands on some ninja-grade top coat, alright?”

“Sure,” Itachi hums, too absorbed in internally criticising the use of wires to make the characters remain airborne for longer to do much else. 

As their movie is concluding, Reika strides in with Sasuke on her hip. He’s wearing a tiny pair of sunglasses and has a bright red cap on. Itachi can smell the sunscreen from where he’s leaning against Tarou’s side.

“Nii!” Sasuke exclaims, smiling widely. There’s a few baby teeth poking out through his gums now and Itachi realises he’ll be one soon. 

“Hi, baby brother,” he chimes as he jumps over the back of the couch to take him from Reika. She offers an approving nod at his agility and hands him over. 

“Wash him up before Nanami gets in and tries to do it herself,” she instructs. 

Tarou follows them into the bathroom and helps Itachi bathe Sasuke, who is squealing with excitement and trying to latch onto the man’s tattooed hands at any opportunity. He enjoys wrapping himself around Tarou’s forearm whenever he gets the chance, often clinging like a noisy, slobbery, baby sloth.

The man only lets him when there’s a bed or lounge nearby to break his fall should he let go. Itachi never tells him that he will catch Sasuke, always. He sees the gap in their abilities already, and he really doesn’t want to highlight the differences between himself and his family.

“Come on, you rascal,” Tarou grunts, attempting to lather baby shampoo into unruly black locks, “cooperate with me, yeah?” 

Once they’ve washed the suds from the infant’s hair, they pull him from the bath, dry him, and manage to tag-team him into his pyjamas. Itachi is sure to put his bib on before they even leave the bathroom – he doesn’t want his clothes getting dirty. If they can convince Reika to feed him, he’ll be clean enough to not even warrant an after-dinner wipe-down. 

Tarou sets the large hot pot full of broth in the middle of the dining table atop the portable stove. They turn it on and let it boil. Nanami walks in, looking refreshed, just as it’s ready for ingredients. 

“I’m home, babies!” she sing-songs her way into the dining room, stopping first to pepper Sasuke’s laughing face with kisses before embracing Itachi and holding him tight. 

“Did you have a nice day?” she asks, ignoring the other two adults in the room. 

He nods, and takes a deep breath in. She smells like vanilla and soap. It eases the worry he had about whether she would be upset with the dinner they’d readied. He pulls back and takes her in. She's got a little orange flower tucked into the hair behind her ear, and her skin looks soft and healthy. 

“Oh, look at you two!” she laughs as she turns to her friends, “I never thought I’d see the day where I could rely on you both to be responsible!”

“Oh, fuck off,” Tarou scoffs, but his eyes are twinkling with mirth. Reika says nothing, too busy inspecting the thin slices of beef set on a plate before her. 

“Let’s eat!” 

They add to the pot and begin chattering about their days. 

Itachi holds out his hands for inspection – Reika is assessing his work on Tarou with sharp eyes while Nanami coos over his own and asks if he’ll paint hers too. He agrees, flushing under the praise and hoping Reika likes his work on Tarou. 

“Nice.” Is all she says, but it makes his chest swell with pride. 

Sasuke babbles about his day as though what he’s saying is legible, and they nod along and ask questions. He’s all sass and cute little eyebrows, even when speaking gibberish, but they treat him as warmly and seriously as they treat Itachi. 

After dinner Itachi makes a hand sign and with a puff of smoke, there’s a small legion of clones in the kitchen. They begin tidying up and doing dishes in a whirl of activity. 

They settle into the lounge room, deciding on an episode of Gossip Nin. Sasuke is playing with a green stuffed dinosaur that Tarou brought along a week or two ago. Reika is flipping through a stack of photos, separating them into piles. Itachi wants to peek but he knows that she’ll catch him, and he doesn’t want to be on the receiving end of her ‘I will hurt you’ face. 

Tarou is snoring with his head lolled onto the back of the lounge. Blue strands of hair have flopped onto his face, but he's thoroughly passed out. Itachi snuggles to his side anyway. 

Nanami is in the armchair, intensely absorbed in the cheesy drama unfolding on the tv screen. 

Breathing in Tarou’s sweets-and-cigarette scent, Itachi decides that yeah, he kinda loves his family. Maybe. Sorta. Definitely. 

.


	10. All the Warm Lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year. Itachi is grateful for his life, and for the people in it. The village remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> Another instalment! I've been working on some of my character designs, and a close friend of mine is going to be working on some art for this fic. It should be in the works soon, I'll be sure to let you know when it's available! Any and all fanart is welcome and will be displayed with full credits to the artist (and, I'm sure, much praise!). 
> 
> Also, the chapter title is taken from a track off the Wolf Children OST by the name of 'All the Warm Lives'. It's sweet, light, gentle. How I hope Itachi felt walking home in the afternoon after this chapter. 
> 
> Please enjoy, I hope you've all had lovely weekends!

Itachi wakes to the sound of little footsteps thumping heavily around the apartment. 

“Sasuke, my love, you’ll wake your brother!” Nanami’s whisper is loud enough for him to hear, as is her laugh. 

“Mama, Dino’s dancing!” a high voice stage-whispers. 

“My, my, he’s got some talent!” another laugh, “Oh come here, you gorgeous boy! I just wanna kiss those chubby cheeks and cuddle you forever!” 

Laughter, squealing – “Mama! We’ll wake Nii!” 

“I think it’s too late for that,” Nanami knocks lightly on his door before sweeping in, Sasuke in her arms clutching his little green stuffed dinosaur tightly. It’s early – much too early to be up and about.

“Good morning!” Sasuke chirps, wriggling out of Nanami’s arms and onto Itachi’s bed. 

With a small sigh he lifts the blanket to let his excitable brother under the covers. 

“Mama, come!”

Nanami smiles and hops onto the other side of the bed, sliding below the covers to cuddle them both. 

Itachi lies between them, knowing they are taking extra care of him today. Sasuke, unknowingly, but the little body pressed to his side calms the mess of emotions lingering just below his skin.

It’s been a year. 

He didn’t dream about it last night – a relief. 

But he did dream, about a boy, his best friend, about calling his name and chasing after him endlessly, catching only glimpses of his back in the distance. 

The thought of Shisui brings tears to his eyes and he lets them fall. Sasuke is already drifting to sleep at his side, soft snores drifting up from his curled up form. 

“My sweet boy,” Nanami presses firm kisses to his temple and puts soft civilian arms around him. With a hiccup he turns his face into her neck, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of vanilla and baby soap soothe him. “I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs into his hair, holding him tighter. 

He lets himself melt into the embrace, knowing that he’s breaking all the ninja rules, but also knowing that Nanami doesn’t care about those very much. 

“Cry when you need to,” she told him when he’d recited a few of them to her, “bottling things up doesn’t get you anywhere. Sometimes I cry just to de-stress – no drama or death, just a good shower-cry that clears my head.” She’d smiled at him, and handed him another plate to dry, “I’ll never judge you, and I won’t pry if you don’t want to talk about it, okay?”

He’d nodded, and known she was telling the truth. 

Now, he tugs Sasuke a little closer and lets himself sink into the warmth that Nanami radiates. 

His aunt says nothing more, just presses kisses to his head and strokes his lengthening hair gently. 

A few hours later, Itachi wakes to a small hand nudging him awake. 

“Nii!” Sasuke’s attempt at a whisper fails horribly, “Let’s make pancakes for Mama!” 

Itachi glances to his left where there aunt is still fast asleep, arms still around him. Slowly, carefully, he eases himself out of her grasp and carries his brother with him into the slowly brightening kitchen. The sun will be rising soon. Itachi feels a little odd to not be at the café, but Nanami had insisted that today, there would be no work or academy. 

Setting his brother on the highchair in the kitchen, Itachi gets to work on the pancakes. Sasuke hums absently as he plays with his green dinosaur, occasionally checking on Itachi's progress. In twenty minutes they’re done, and he releases Sasuke from the highchair to wake their aunt as he squeezes a few lemons and sets the brown sugar on the table. 

Nanami pads into the kitchen with Sasuke on her hip, yawning widely. 

“For me?” she gasps dramatically when she spots the fruits of their labour on the table. 

“Yes!” Sasuke laughs madly, bouncing excitedly, “Nii made them!” 

“My thoughtful boys,” she laughs, twirling the rest of the way into the kitchen. Sasuke laughs again, and Itachi feels like a light has been switched on in his chest cavity. 

They eat together, Itachi blushing at Sasuke and Nanami’s adamant praise of his cooking. His brother is one and a half, almost, and although he hates most sweet things, pancakes with lemon are something he enjoys. Nanami always tries to convince him to try them with a sprinkle of sugar, but he adamantly refuses to eat anything with sugar visibly on it. 

Itachi smiles at them, watching as Sasuke insists on feeding their aunt her portion with chubby baby hands. She goes along, thanking him and accepting too-large bites that make her cheeks expand like a chipmunk. That just makes Sasuke cackle, and they all end up laughing helplessly over breakfast. 

By the time they get around to dressing for the day, Itachi already feels lighter. There’s small vestiges of guilt at the happiness he feels here, with Sasuke and Nanami and no one else. But he’s been working on understanding and rationalising around the negativity in his mind. He decides to take the day as it comes. If he feels sad, he’ll cry. If he’s happy, he’ll smile. And he will do his best not to feel guilty for any emotions he experiences. 

He knows his therapist will be proud of him. 

They dress in black, even Sasuke, who asks a seemingly endless stream of questions about why they are all matching, and where they are going. 

“Why black, Mama?” 

Itachi can hear the rustle of fabric across the hall as Nanami dresses his brother. 

“Black represents mourning, Sasuke.” 

“What’s mor-ning?” 

“Mourning is the time we take to remember people who are no longer living. Sometimes that means feeling sad, but it can mean a lot of things,” she says gently. 

“So… people that are gone to sleep and not waking up?” 

“Clever boy. Today we are going to remember the Uchiha clan, and honour their lives.” 

A few moments of silence. 

“Aren’t we Uchiha?” burning curiosity. 

“Yes, my dear. But this day last year, many of them went to sleep forever. It’s up to us to carry on their memory and celebrate their lives.” 

“Hn!” Comes the enthusiastic reply. Itachi can practically hear the excited head nodding. 

They make their way to the cemetery. It’s late enough that people are up and about. Most nod respectfully to the trio as they pass them. Itachi mostly keeps his head down, letting Nanami deal with the returning nods and grateful smiles. He knows now that he can rely on her, and Tarou, and Reika. They’re adults, and although the latter two can be brash, they can still deal with other adults more effectively than him. 

Half an hour, and they’re at the outskirts. 

Itachi raises his head at the entrance, and is momentarily stunned by the mass of people milling about, all dressed in black. 

It’s not silent as they walk through the cemetery. People are talking over individuals’ grave stones, some laughing, others in tears. 

“…remember when the prickly bastard would pretend like he didn’t spread half the gossip in the jounin lounge…”

“…she would always walk me home when she was on patrol…” 

“…their grocery store was the best in town, hands down…”

“…that time when we went to the Fire Capitol and they mistook him for a princess, oh my gods-”

With a start Itachi realises they’re talking about members of his clan. 

“I… may have sent word out to the jounin commander and the civilian council that we would be here today,” Nanami explains sheepishly as they walk, “I just wanted to let people know today would be open to all, to come and remember the people we lost.”

Itachi nods numbly, vaguely aware that people here are smiling at him. Not all, but more than he’s used to – some have tears in their eyes, others are laughing, some seem solemn. 

But these people – there must be over three hundred – are here to remember his clan for who they were as individuals. 

It shakes him to realise how much weight lifts from his shoulders. Logically, he knows it isn’t his responsibility to keep them alive in his memory, but it’s something else to see just how many people are willing to bear their memory with him. 

“Itachi,” Tarou’s suddenly in front of them, “I missed you in the kitchen this morning, squirt.” A soft pat atop his head, and then he’s being guided to a row of graves, “Come on, show me who these folks were, yeah?”

Reika sweeps in to scoop up Sasuke, who squeals with delight at the sight of his favourite babysitter. 

Nanami wanders off to where Itachi knows his mother rests. 

The day ahead will seem both immeasurably long and too short. But with Tarou’s hand atop his head, fingernails painted a shimmering gold to match Itachi’s own, Reika’s stoic face despite the chubby hands pulling at her cheeks, and Nanami’s ever-present warmth, he thinks that it might just be bearable. 

When Hana comes barrelling into the cemetery after the academy and launches herself at him in a hug, he knows he’ll be okay. The scent of puppy-grass-fresh air that lingers in her hair brings a smile to his face. 

Tsume isn’t far behind, a wriggling Kiba in her arms. He and Sasuke are given free reign, to run around and play as people mingle and reminisce. 

Itachi holds Hana’s hand and leads her to his parents. Haltingly, he tells her about them. Father’s stern face, the achievements he made, his pride in his family. His mother, her sharp-as-knives smile, clever like no one else Itachi has ever known. The hand around his own grounds him, saves him from floating away on the tide of memories. An anchor, in the sea of graves around them.

He smiles even as he cries, and Hana holds him close and pats his hair, chattering nervously about the puppies they’d played with last week. 

He doesn’t think this day will ever get easier, but the thought of moving forward into the future isn’t as daunting. 

Besides, if it gets to be too much, Itachi knows the people surrounding him will help honour his clan’s memory. 

.


	11. The Treehouse Tribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi notices something. Itachi says something. Itachi sparks an idea that will change The Treehouse forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I finally got around to uploading this! My apologies for the wait, I hope you enjoy. I got the idea for this chapter from a dear friend of mine, who asked me if I'd ever heard of a cafe in Sydney called 'Parliament on King' which, amongst many other things, trains and hires refugees and asylum seekers struggling to gain experience and provides them with employment/experience in hospitality. I kinda took the idea and ran with it, but full credit to the legends that run that cafe! 
> 
> Also, the little song at the beginning is an insanely catchy Dinosaur nursery rhyme, which you can easily find on youtube by looking up 'Dinosaur Songs' (it will be the first video hahah). Don't laugh at me, it's insanely catchy, okay! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

“Dinos they work as a dino team, but they have trouble it seems!” 

Itachi listens to Sasuke and Nanami sing as they walk into the café. 

“Getting eggy out of the tree, Dinos why don’t you see if there’s another idea!”

They finish the song, Sasuke babbling the rest of the way about his favourite stuffed toy, a green dinosaur creatively dubbed ‘Dino’. It’s clutched under one arm, his other hand occupied by Nanami’s. 

They’re up early enough, as they are most days, but the market district is far from quiet. The fruit and vegetable vendor is setting his stall us as they go past. He sneaks Sasuke a few cherry tomatoes in passing as Nanami pretends to be busy inspecting some watermelon. 

The vendor, Sekke, winks at Itachi as they continue on their way to The Treehouse. The old woman who runs the corner shop waves at them from her window, sipping a cup of tea. Itachi makes sure to smile at her when he waves back. The seafood stall is the loudest, a rowdy group of fishermen laughing over breakfast and tea before the morning rush begins. 

When they arrive at the cafe, Nanami releases Sasuke’s hand and he races off to the kitchen. Itachi turns on the lights, listening to his brother yelling, “Mornin’ Ta-chan, Rei-chan!” 

He knows Tarou will be grinning as he swings the boy up for a hug. Reika will be frowning, but she’ll hold her hands out to embrace him next. He grabs his uniform and changes, admiring the details Reika added. The little paw prints around his ankles are fading a little, but he’ll be eight soon, and he hopes he’ll be getting a new uniform. The sleeves on this one are getting a little short – not that it matters, he rolls them up just like Tarou anyway. 

By the time the sun has risen and the store is open, Itachi has changed back into his normal clothes and is ready to head to the academy. Tomorrow is their grocery-run day, and he’s buzzing with excitement as he thinks about all the perfect packages they’ll be sending off. 

“Nanami,” he finds himself staring at a group of children as they run past, squealing and laughing. 

“Hm?” she’s staring up at the sky. It’s a clear morning, warm and bright. 

“Do you think the orphans learn how to cook the way I’ve been learning from you?” 

She blinks down at him curiously, “I’m not sure, love. I learnt from my time as a kitchen hand after school, and then in a restaurant when I got older.” 

“Hn,” he turns his gaze to the street ahead, watching as shops get their signs flipped to ‘open’. 

“Do you think anyone teaches them?” he can’t stop thinking about it. What would he have done if Nanami hadn’t taken him in? He had known the basics of making rice, and perhaps how to cook eggs. But anything else seemed daunting. 

“Now that I think about it, no,” she sounds frustrated. “We should do something about that.” 

Itachi nods vigorously, “I think we should teach them,” he says, “at The Treehouse. We have the space out back.” 

Nanami hums, a slight furrow to her brow, “We do have the space. But the time? We’re open every day, but with our income as it is, we could probably…” she trails off, deep in thought. 

Itachi accepts the absent kiss to his brow and smiles at the form of his distracted aunt as she leaves him at the front of the academy. He knows she’ll think of something.

. 

“Right,” she says as he and Hana enter the café after the Academy. Tsume, who had picked them up in the first place, cocks a brow.

“We’re going to be closing the café on Tuesdays.” 

Itachi struggles to keep himself from buzzing with excitement. 

“I’ll be contacting the orphanages we supply, and requesting they put together classes based on age. Tuesdays we will teach the children easy and simple recipes.” 

Hana is bouncing beside him, “Can I come, can I come, please, Nanami-san, can I come?” 

Tsume snorts and ruffles her daughter’s hair, “Oh, so now you wanna help out in the kitchen?”

“Of course,” Nanami smiles. Hana blushes at her mother's teasing, but Itachi is busy reigning in his desire to throw his arms around his aunt and laugh. 

She listened to him! They’re gonna start a program! He – he did that. He helped. 

The entire afternoon he can’t stop grinning. Frequent customers give him double takes as he and Hana sit at the counter folding napkins into little animals, smiling all the while. 

Tarou and Reika don’t take the concept of teaching kids very well, but he knows they’ll come around. They’ve always been good with him and Sasuke. 

.

Three weeks later, a stack of paperwork, and a frantic child-proofing rampage throughout the café and kitchen, and their program begins. 

Itachi bounces lightly on the balls of his feet as they stand at the counter, watching children file in. They seem to be his age mostly, though some appear older. 

Nanami greets them warmly, and Itachi hands around little white aprons. Tarou goes around with fabric markers and inks in names on the little name patch on the front. Dozens of stools line the big industrial steel kitchen table, and Reika sternly recites the safety rules. Itachi gets an official title as helper, and preens when anyone asks questions. 

They spend the day going over the basics of rice. How to wash it, how to cook it, how to make sure it keeps in the fridge. They make fried rice and rice balls and pack them away in containers that get labelled with each child’s name. 

By midday they get sent back to the orphanage with reusable bags containing the food they made, and a little laminated sheet with the basics and recipes on it. 

The next class files in.

Some of the younger children play with Sasuke in the playpen while the classes take place. If Nanami isn’t helping the class, she and the matrons sit to the side and go over the supply baskets. His aunt takes requests for more of this, or less of that, and so forth. 

Itachi is happy that he gets to skip the academy on Tuesdays. He’s already so far ahead of his peers, often he sits in class and daydreams of puppies and dango and the ceiling of the café. Attending four days a week doesn’t impact him much, and Hana joins the class slotted once the academy lets out anyway. 

During the normal work week, customers that hear of the program begin to donate towards it. They garner interest around the market district, and soon Sekke the fresh produce vendor spends some time educating the orphans on growing fruit and vegetables, and knowing good quality produce in order to get the best value for money. 

The fishermen give a weekly lesson on ways to identify poisonous fish, and even include a demonstration on how to de-bone certain types. 

The butcher explains all that can be done with the cheaper cuts of meat, which he frequently donates to The Treehouse on lesson days. 

A civilian group of elderly women who make up a sewing community bring customised tote bags for The Treehouse. 

The clothing store around the corner from them begins printing little tee-shirts as uniforms. They’re green, like the ceiling of the café, and have a drawing of a tree on the back in white. On the front ‘The Treehouse’ is scrawled in artful calligraphy, white on green. 

Soon they become popular enough that ‘Treehouse Tuesday’ gets changed to ‘The Treehouse Tribe’, as they close the store on Tuesday and Wednesday. 

By the time Itachi turns eight, The Treehouse is a hub for orphans. They bring their discount cards on weekends and spend whatever small allowances they are given on pancakes. Some of the older kids work part-time in the kitchen, washing dishes and assisting Tarou, Reika and Itachi with the onslaught of orders. 

Itachi feels like a big brother to more than just Sasuke. There’s Kimi-chan, a little girl with red hair and a gap tooth who always calls him Nii-chan and struggles to remember even the simplest of recipes. Aki-kun, who cries at the smallest of mistakes and only calms at Itachi’s soft words of encouragement. Mina-chan, whose laugh is so contagious even Reika smirks when the girl is set off by something. 

Sasuke is talking more and more, the frequent socialisation doing wonders for his development. 

Nanami glows, thriving off the work and, Itachi secretly knows, the lasting contribution to the community. 

Tarou and Reika are efficient teachers – Tarou just snarky enough to prompt laughter, and Reika intimidating enough to garner respect. 

Kotoe and Sayaka no longer worked for Nanami, opting to give their positions to teens fresh out of the orphanage as they progressed to working in kitchens around the market district. They still pop by weekly for tea and cake, and sometimes even make it to one of the workshop days to lend a hand. 

Life is good.

Itachi can’t remember ever being so happy. 

.


	12. A day in the life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Itachi and Hana are on a very important mission. Sasuke is grumpy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! 
> 
> My apologies for the long wait on this one. I've had a lot going on, and I've caught up with Attack on Titan and accidentally maybe kinda started another story that has been taking up my attention. 
> 
> Never fear though, BCG is my baby and I wont abandon it. 
> 
> Enjoy this chapter, it's a little longer than usual - an apology for its delayed release!

“Hurry up!” Hana hisses from somewhere in the bushes, “someone’s gonna look this way any second now!”

Itachi leaps into the bush, landing in a perfect crouch beside his friend. 

“It’s okay, Hana,” he whispers, “sensei is on the eastern boundary, we have about a minute.” 

“Let’s go!” 

They sprint through the shrubbery around the Academy, making a break for the marketplace. They burst into the corner shop, buzzing with the thrill of skipping class. 

“Itachi-chan, Hana-chan – oh, you’re just in time!” says Kimiko-san from behind the counter. She’s old enough to be wrinkled, and grey-haired, but not enough to be hunched over like some of the elders Itachi remembers living in the Uchiha compound. 

“Toto-chan just escaped, and Junpei-kun isn’t back from his lunch break yet – I think he went that way!” a point towards the open-air market stalls. 

“We’ll find him, Kimiko-baa-chan, promise!” swears Hana solemnly, all but dragging Itachi out the door. 

“Promise!” Itachi calls over his shoulder as they re-emerge on the sunny street. 

“Alright,” says Hana, eyes narrowing as she assesses the situation, “last time he got out we found him at the dango stall – he won’t make that mistake again. Where do you think we should start?” 

Itachi contemplates for a moment. Toto is getting old now, but he’s still as adventurous as he was when he was a puppy, according to Kimiko-san. Old age means he might get tired sooner, though. 

“If I were a dog, where would I go?” he muses softly, scanning the midday rush intently. 

“The takoyaki stand would be good for bite sized treats,” Hana supplies as they scramble up the side of a nearby building. Well, Hana scrambles, but Itachi walks up beside her slowly so she doesn’t feel left behind. She never says that it bothers her, but he can always tell. 

“Could be, but they’re on the other side of the district,” he crouches on the edge of the building and eyes the vendors speculatively. 

“It makes more sense for him to go somewhere close. That way he wouldn’t have been underfoot for long, and he can get an easy treat.” 

Hana nods approvingly at his analysis and grins widely, “Ma, maa – you’re so good at this Itachi! We’ll find him in no time!” 

They set their course for the closes street to Kimiko-san’s shop, and hurriedly consult the vendors about the whereabouts of Toto-chan. 

“He’s small,” Itachi says to the casual worker at Sekke-san’s stand, “fluffy and white. He loves belly rubs and carrots with peanut butter on them.”

The girl blinks blankly at him, and shakes her head, “Nope, haven’t seen him.”

Itachi nods, and meets up with Hana who had been checking a few other vendors. 

“Tetsuya-san said he saw him making his way west!” she informs him excitedly, “That’s towards-”

“The butcher!” they say together, and then they’re racing towards the shop – Itachi is so excited he almost forgets to tone it down for Hana, and has to reach for her hand to remind him to slow down a little. 

They skid to a stop in front of the store, and enter at a more sedate pace. The bell above the door tinkles and Itachi sighs in relief at the sound of a welcoming little bark. 

“Toto-chan!” Hana rushes forward to pet the fluffy white dog, who’s sprawled rather languidly to the side of the counter. 

“I was wondering when the two of you would show up,” laughs the butcher. He’s a portly man, kind and boisterous. Itachi offers him a small smile, friendly enough with him from Treehouse Tribe. 

“My apologies, Mojiro-san, he slipped away from Kimiko-san earlier,” Itachi bows politely, resisting the urge to drop to his knees beside Toto-chan and smother him in pats and kisses. It’s good practice for when he becomes a genin and has to resist patting dogs on missions, anyway. 

“It’s alright,” smiles the large man, “he just wanted some offcuts, didn’t you boy?” 

Toto-chan gives a cute yip, and Itachi stares at him mournfully as Hana scratches his pink belly enthusiastically. Soon, he thinks, soon he’ll pat him and tell him how soft his fur is, he promises!

They leave the butchers, and Itachi tries not to sulk as Hana holds Toto-chan in her arms. They get half way down the street when-

“Hey! Itachi, a little help here!” 

He glances over to Tarou, who is struggling to juggle five paper bags of groceries. 

In a flash he’s in front of him, a clone by his side, and they take the load off his hands. 

“Ah, thank the gods for you ninja and your freaky clone bullshit,” he sighs, wiping a heavily tattooed arm across his forehead. Itachi flashes a smile at his uncle’s strange way of saying thank you. 

“Hi, Tarou!” Hana pipes up, and Itachi tries not to get too distracted at the sight of Toto-chan’s little pink tongue flopping out of his mouth. 

“What’s up, squirt?” grins the navy haired man, “You two brats skippin’ again?” 

Itachi nods honestly while Hana splutters over lame excuses. He makes a mental note to coach her through the best ways to tell a lie as per their curriculum. Reika had helped him when he asked, and she gave some tips that definitely hadn’t been offered by his sensei. 

“Whatever, your brother will be happy to see you,” he says as they start walking towards the café. 

Itachi perks up at the thought of Sasuke. His little brother is the impromptu leader of a group of toddlers, and doesn’t spend nearly as much time with Itachi as he’d like. Maybe he’ll catch him just before his small wave of friends arrive for the day! 

They enter the café, and Itachi pauses in the entrance way to inhale deeply. Pastries, tea, fruit. It smells like home. 

He sets forward, a bounce in his step as they approach the counter. A teen with blonde hair is manning the till, and he smiles at Itachi and Hana briefly before scowling up at Tarou. 

“You left without telling Reika! Man, she was pissed – you owe me for covering for you!” 

“Meh,” shrugs Tarou as they step past him, “I owe you nothing, dipshit. Had to do my groceries so I can go on a bender this weekend and not die from starvation or a hangover.”

The teen fumes at him for a moment before the anger drops off his face. He turns to a waiting customer with a winning smile and Itachi wonders why more civilians aren’t trained in espionage. He’s noticed many, many people working in hospitality and retail that would give any undercover ninja a run for their money. 

Heck, even his aunt Nanami had a freakishly convincing customer-service voice, face, and body language setting. It’s scary. 

They tromp into the kitchen, and Tarou only narrowly dodges a rolling pin as it’s launched at his head. 

“You said you were going to the toilet,” comes Reika’s clipped voice, “unless you just took a colossal shit, you’re a fucking liar.” 

Itachi stifles a laugh at the expression on her face, just glad that it’s not directed at him. Toto-chan chooses that moment to yip unhelpfully. 

“Get the puppy out before I blackmail Kimiko into locking him in a kennel!” 

Itachi deposits the groceries on the counter, dismisses his clone, and he and Hana make themselves scarce. 

Back in the café, he bee-lines towards the cot under the till, where Sasuke is snoring lightly. It’s almost lunchtime, so he should be waking up any minute now. Observing his cute little face, slack with sleep and drooling slightly, Itachi feels guilt at what he’s about to do. 

“Sasuke,” he murmurs, extending a hand to shake him awake, “wake-”

“Oh, no you don’t!” a panicked whisper from behind him and he has to supress the urge to go for a knife when arms encircle him and spin him away from his sleeping brother. 

He twists in soft arms to face his aunt, who looks harrowed. 

“Sorry, Ita-chan,” she sighs, “he’s been a little difficult today. My grumpy boy needs his sleep.” 

Itachi nods, cheeks flushing in shame – he hadn’t meant to make her day more difficult. 

“Oh, none of that,” a soft smile as she chides him, “come, let’s have lunch together, ne?” 

He wonders whether Nanami has a hidden ability to read his mind as she steers him towards where Hana has set herself and Toto-chan up in a booth. It would make her part Yamanaka, possibly. He wonders at it while his aunt disappears into the kitchen and re-emerges with four dishes and a stack of plates balanced on her arms. 

Somehow she sets them on the table without making a mess and he thinks she would have made a good ninja. A very good ninja, with her ability to get people to trust her and like her. 

He smiles as she drops a quick kiss to his forehead before sitting down opposite him. They just load their plates with food when the bell above the door tinkles and in the next moment, their sensei – a chuunin named Tachibana Kenta appears at the table. 

“You two!” he scowls, sweat on his brow, “This is unacceptable!” 

Itachi takes a large bite out of his omelette, watching the man interestedly. Hana is feeding Toto-chan little bites of hers out of the palm of her hand.

“Would you like some lunch?” Nanami offers smoothly, holding out a plate of rice balls. 

The chuunin stops in his tracks and flushes bright red at the offer. 

“N-No thank you, I’m supposed to bring these two back to the Academy-”

“The Academy?” Nanami rounds on them, frowning, “That was today? Itachi, Hana, I can’t believe the both of you!” 

Tachibana-sensei blinks, baffled at her abrupt change in tone. 

Itachi takes another bite of his omelette and Hana sips at her water. 

“I am appalled,” she gasps, and her brow furrows as she turns to the teacher, “My apologies, Tachibana-sensei. I’ll be sure to discipline the both of them! In fact, I’ll start right now. You’re both grounded!” she exclaims, “And you’re on dishes duty for the rest of the day.” 

Itachi tries a bite of some fried mackerel, humming in approval at its deliciousness. Hana has just stuffed a large rice ball into her mouth whole, and is making an effort to chew despite the enormous puff of her cheeks. 

“Um… they don’t look very… bothered,” says their teacher blandly. 

“What?” Nanami nudges him with her foot beneath the table and Itachi blinks gravely up at her as he nudges Hana. She sits bolt upright and lets her lower lip tremble convincingly, despite the fact that she still has at least half a riceball to chew through, and her cheeks are full. 

“They’re going to be elbow deep in dishwater for the rest of the day,” Nanami says, nodding loftily, “you must be busy, please don’t let these two delinquents take your focus from the rest of the class!”

Their sensei nods, confused, and leaves. 

The moment the bell above the door tinkles after him, Nanami droops, “Come on, guys,” she sighs, “I was doing all the heavy lifting! Would it have killed at least one of you to look cowed?” 

Itachi is too busy trying to stuff a whole rice ball in his mouth in an attempt to beat Hana’s chew-record to reply. His aunt only smiles fondly at the pair as she begins eating her own lunch. 

When they finish, Itachi creates a few clones who clear their table and they sip at some tea. On his lap, Toto-chan is napping. Itachi carefully pets at his fur, gentle enough not to wake him up. 

He and Hana count his little toe-beans and touch the still amazingly soft pads of his paws. 

“They’ll need a trim soon,” Hana observes his lengthening nails. 

“Maybe Kimiko-san will let us take him to the groomers for her,” Itachi murmurs in response, reverently running his fingers over a floppy, fluffy ear.

By the time Sasuke wakes, Toto-chan is lying on Itachi’s lap being indulged by belly-rubs. 

His little brother observes broodily from the side of the counter, and Itachi politely pretends not to notice his glare on the little dog. Sasuke, Itachi has learnt, has a strange relationship with dogs. He pretends not to like them whenever Itachi is nearby, but as an older brother he sees the sneaky pets and bribes to feel soft paw pads whenever Sasuke thinks no one is looking. 

Finally the three year old marches over, and demands Toto-chan’s spot on Itachi’s lap. He passes the dog over to Hana, who slides out of the booth and promises to deliver him back to Kimiko-san.

“I’ll come help with the restocking,” he lets her know, “soon.” 

She nods and makes her way out of the café. Nanami is flitting between busy tables, but still takes a moment to hug Hana and place a small kiss to Toto-chan’s nose. 

Sasuke watches on grumpily, curled up on Itachi’s lap. 

“How has your day been?” Itachi asks, stroking a hand down his brother’s back. 

“Hmph,” grumbles the toddler, burying his face into his brother’s chest. 

“Rough day, huh?” 

A sulky nod. 

Itachi drops a kiss to the top of his brother’s head, and hugs him tightly. He knows this combo works – Nanami does it to him all the time, and he always feels better for it. 

Sasuke plays with his friends when they arrive, and Itachi slinks off to the corner shop where he helps Hana restock shelves for Kimiko-san. Toto-chan naps in his soft doggy bed below the counter, but when he and Hana are about to leave he trots over and accepts some goodbye pats. 

Kimiko-san gives them sweets and pats their heads and thanks them for finding Toto-chan. 

Hana and Itachi wander back to the café in the late afternoon. Hana’s hands and cheeks are sticky from the sweets, but Itachi has perfected the art of eating messy things neatly, so he’s clear of the evidence by the time they enter The Treehouse. 

Sasuke and Kiba are furious at Hana for not saving them any sweets, and Itachi smirks smugly at his friend as she flails under the weight of two very indigent three year olds. 

“That’s rude, nee-chan!” Kiba growls, hands searching her pockets frantically. 

“Yeah!” Agrees Sasuke, who’s seated at her feet while he goes through her weapon’s pouch carefully. 

Itachi is glad that he’s been lightly training Sasuke on the handling of weapons for the past few months. He doesn’t nick himself on anything pointy once. 

The café closes, they wipe up tables and stack chairs and Nanami mops the floor while they sit in a booth so they don’t slip. 

“It’s Friday, bitches,” Tarou yells as he steps out of the kitchen, “Let’s go get wasted!”

“I’m in,” Nanami says, and she looks exhausted. Itachi thinks she’d be much better suited to sleep early, but says nothing. Reika emerges next, with an overnight bag over her shoulder. It’s her turn to watch them tonight, and Itachi preens at the thought of showing her the sneaky pictures of puppies he had snapped around the village. 

They walk home as the sun sets, waving goodbye to Hana and Kiba as they leave the market district. 

Sasuke is curled drowsily in their aunt’s arms, drifting in and out of sleep. Itachi listens to Reika and Tarou arguing over which cocktails taste best from their usual bar. Nanami is yawning, but there’s a bounce to her step. 

That night Itachi dreams of Toto-chan and giant riceballs, big enough to bounce on like a mattress. 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itachi. He's too pure.


End file.
